


a new year

by harrietspecter



Category: Transplant (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, Gen, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrietspecter/pseuds/harrietspecter
Summary: Five times Jed Bishop and Claire Malone celebrate New Year's Eve.
Relationships: Claire Malone & Wendy Atwater, Jed Bishop/Claire Malone
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	a new year

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get this out on NYE here, so this is a rush job!
> 
> To A, who loves Jed and Claire and Wendy as much as I do. Partner in crime with these idiots in love and babysitter Wendy.

**one.**

Claire Malone tosses her gloves into the bin outside the curtained off exam bed and clutches the patient folder a little tighter before she escapes to the nurses' desk and logs into the network.

She’s been here for almost three months and it's been an interesting ride. So far, she enjoys the insanity of the acute wing but understands ambulatory is where she’s needed for her double shift. 

She doesn’t mind the nurses or doctors on this overnight shift from 10 pm to 6 am. She’s a little surprised the attending doctor is here. All the other chiefs and attendings are either off or on call. The head nurse is even off.

“Let me guess, sparkler burns,” a familiar brogue greets her. 

She looks up from the computer with a brow raised and continues typing the notes to log the patient into the system. 

Jed Bishop, the attending doctor of York Memorial’s emergency department leans on the counter in front of her station and a smirk is beginning to form. It's nearing midnight and most of the sparkler burn victims and heavily intoxicated patients are in and out of their exam rooms with an efficient turnaround time. It helps that the health insurance companies are refusing to pay for treatment caused by an illegal activity so they can run the bill for the expensive trip to the emergency department as they hand the patient burn cream and gauze and tell them to consider the consequences of things that go boom or light up and alcohol.

“Mmh,” she hums. “This time, the patient was an observer. Let a kid play with it, the kid got scared and flung it out of his hands. Started a little house fire and gave the guardian some minor burns.” 

Jed Bishop nods slowly. 

“You want it or should I give it to a resident?”

Jed watched as Wendy Atwater made her way out of a room with four residents as she made rounds to let them practice diagnosing and treating patients. There were two fellows at the doctors' desk and another resident typing up case files. The insanity of New Year’s Eve was at the lull point for the next few hours.

“I can do it,” Jed sticks his hand out for the patient folder and Claire makes a quick note of her initials and is already putting the order in for a prescription tube of burn cream and gauze. 

“Bed six,” she nods her chin to the curtained-off bed to the side of the emergency bay.

He gives her a nod and sees himself off as she shakes her head and smiles at him.

\--

He finds her in the atrium with a cardigan wrapped around her scrubs top, her feet curled around the bench pole.

“Hey,” he greets her quietly.

“Hey,” she returns with a slightly suspicious tone.

He pulls the paper out from behind his back and sets it on the bench between them, scooting the stack closer to her.

She looks over at him but he’s staring at the empty bench across the atrium from them.

“Well, go on,” he tells her without looking.

“This seems very spycraft,” Claire notes as she reaches out and unfolds the newspaper.

There’s a long rectangular box the size of a National Geographic magazine and she looks at him again.

This time, he’s watching her intently. A small smile as he nods for her to continue.

She opens the box lid and pauses as she looks at the contents.

Her mouth moves but nothing comes out.

“Happy birthday, Claire.”

At his words, she takes out the binaural stethoscope and holds the earpiece and bell between her fingers.

Her current stethoscope is a borrowed one. She has her cheaper one from nursing school, but the emergency room has a lot of distractions and her nursing student stethoscope doesn’t have the same capability as an emergency room borrowed stethoscope. A patient can’t tell one stethoscope from another, but the Littmann is an expensive, top tier stethoscope for emergency room use.

“How’d you know?”

Whether she’s asking about her birthday or how he knows the stethoscope is out of her price range, he finds the words to answer both.

Her brows furrow and her lips curl into a smile even though she tries to keep a straight face.

“Mums the word,” Jed counters, looking proud of himself.

The city’s fireworks go off as she carefully reaches over and touches her hand to his own that sits next to his thigh. It's a brief touch as her fingers gently curl around his own for a moment before she lets go and curls her hand back and holds her very own stethoscope with both hands.

“Happy New Year’s Eve birthday, Claire,” he nods as he stands from the bench.

She swallows and nods her chin in a non-verbal thanks.

He knows she needs a moment and leaves her be, instead, watching from the admissions desk as she runs her fingers over the stethoscope with a soft smile on her lips.

  
  


**two.**

Claire has settled into a routine as she moves from ambulatory, to intermediate, to acute during her various shifts. New Year’s Eve, however, is almost always a shift dedicated to ambulatory. Although, one year, they had two gunshots and they were all morbidly giddy about not having to treat another sparkler mishap.

“Number thirty-two,” Jed Bishop sets a patient file down on the counter in front of her as she sits at the nurse’s desk quietly typing away.

“That takes Rhoda out of the pot,” Claire notes as she looks up at him without pausing in her typing.

To make it interesting, they made bets on how many sparklers, fireworks, and strange objects they’d see tonight. Rather than money, they exchange snack privileges. 

“New patient just came in. Since it's a kid, I put your new doctor on it. Umm, Atwater.”

They had two emergent doctors tonight with a handful of residents, fellows, and nurses.

“Good thinking. Woolsey may scare the kid.”

Claire smirks and tries not to laugh out loud.

“Shadow her, eh? I only hire the best, but we need to understand what we’re working with.”

Claire nods.

\--

The atrium is blissfully quiet at this time of night, a difference from the day inside the emergency room doors. He lets out a long sigh and finds her smiling at him as she sits on the bench.

He sets down a rather large bulk of newspaper between them as he sits and chuckles.

“What’s this then?” She asks despite knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“This? Oh, just a little something I picked up,” he scoots it closer and it presses against her hip.

The gift is wrapped in newspaper and she raises a brow in amusement and interest.

“It was all I had.”

She smirks and goes back to finding a taped edge to unwrap the gift. When she finds it, the newspaper tears and she continues the process until she can see it’s a book. And not just any book, but the most updated version of _Gray’s Anatomy._

She’s told him that she wants to be the best. Wants to be the youngest head nurse at York Memorial. She’s thinking about going back to school to be a nurse practitioner. The current head nurse is supportive and will allow shift changes to adjust to her schedule. The newest emergent doctor, Wendy Atwater, thinks it's a great way to move up. Jed’s been requesting her as his nurse on his cases and showing her the ropes of diagnosing and letting her try out her skills.

“I know you don’t have an office of your own here,” he begins. “But if you want to keep it at work and don’t want to put it in your locker, you’re welcome to put it in my office.”

She looks at him and nods.

“Happy New Year’s Eve birthday, Claire,” he smiles softly and his hand brushes against her own as she plays with the book cover.

She looks at him for a solid few seconds where she gets a little gleam in her eye and scoots closer. The newspaper crinkles and folds between them. She takes a breath before she leans in and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth.

It's over before he can process what has been done in the space of then and now, but her cheeks are a little flush and she chuckles a little as he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it once nothing comes out.

“Thank you, Jed,” she nods at him.

Her fingers brush his wrist as she stands and gathers her book.

The city’s fireworks illuminate the atrium as she walks away. And, as he watches her leave, she turns back and finds him watching. She laughs and grins genuinely before she looks up at the lit-up night sky before heading back into the hospital to finish the rest of their shift.

  
  


**three.**

As the department chief, his presence is mandatory at the donor gala on New Year's Eve this year. Claire had seen the official invitation given to all the appropriate doctors, board members, foundation donors, and potential donors as it sat on his counter a few days before the event.

She’s his plus one to the event and had finally gone dress shopping with Wendy on their day off two weeks ago.

Tonight, it was her day off and he had left early, leaving Wendy Atwater in charge of the department. Wendy had given him a look and he shrugged with a smirk playing on his lips. 

She’s mincing onions, carrots, and celery as he cooks the spiced ground chicken for their potstickers. He finishes before her because he has just the one task and she likes to mince well and even and the celery is a little too big for her taste. She doesn’t want to actually taste the celery. It’s mostly there as a binder. Kind of like the cabbage she’ll make Jed shred because she likes his knife skills when it comes to chopping things. Plus, the mincing is a lot of work and it’s only fair he has to do his share of the work for this dinner he was supposed to be making for her.

Dinner is prepped with almost surgical precision and they take turns filling and folding up the potstickers. When they’re in the basket to steam before he pan fries them to finish them off, he washes his hands and moves to his bedroom. 

She’s washed her hands and cleaned up their mess as she hears his footsteps.

He returns moments later with his hands behind his back and a smile playing on his lips.

She raises a brow as she sips at the wine in her glass while looking over the donor gala invitation.

“Sit,” he gestures to the chair at the other side of the island from where they prepped and made their dinner.

She tilts her head, curious, but moves to the chair in question and sits on the edge.

He tops off their wine before sitting and producing a newspaper and pushing it in her direction.

She smirks, shaking her head, and flips the newspaper open and finds a long, thin box.

Opening the box, she finds a necklace. It’s dainty, minimal, and something she would totally buy on an impulse if she was shopping downtown or in the fringe boutiques with Wendy. It’s long enough not to be considered a choker but short enough not to get in the way if she was to wear it at work.

She tries not to think about how Eric had bought her jewellery for Christmas mere days ago. Her husband's gift to her had been diamonds and flashy and not at all her unless she was going to visit her in-laws.

Jed’s necklace is a delicate gold chain with a small gemstone that looks like the stormy winter skies before a snowstorm.

“I know it's early and we’re not in my office or the atrium,” he tells her and he’s sure she’s caught on that he would normally give this to her on her birthday. “But if you wanted to wear it to the gala, you could.”

He pauses and watches her trace the delicate chain.

“Not that you have to,” he continues. “I just… I saw it when I was trying to find the game store to buy Jonah the video game he wanted for Christmas. It reminded me of winter and I know you’re a strange person who actually likes winter.”

He trails off.

She leans towards him and kisses him. Her fingers tighten on the box with her present as she leans into the space between them and teeters on the edge of her chair.

“I love it,” she tells him with a grin before she leans in and kisses him again. “Thank you.”

\--

It's approaching midnight and she’s raked in the donations, as he expected. They’re shoulder to shoulder at the table they share with Wendy and Andrew Atwater and watch the two as they sway on the dance floor.

Under the table, Claire's hand is in his, fingers entwined, as it rests on his thigh. His thumb moving back and forth against the back of her hand and she hums, shifting closer.

“You think Andrew had to take ballroom dancing lessons in the Air Force?” Claire chuckles at her own joke.

He sets his old fashioned down on the table and clears his throat. He’s told her multiple times she can’t make a joke while he’s drinking unless she wants to take the risk of getting covered in it should he find the joke particularly amusing.

“I’m sure it's a required course for all the officers. Never know when you have to dance your way through the battlefield.”

She bites her lip as she laughs at his response.

“You do look beautiful tonight, you know,” he reiterates Andrew’s compliment he had given her earlier in the evening.

She smiles a little, her cheeks flushing slightly, and she unconsciously reaches up to her neck, fingers playing with the necklace she wears.

“You clean up nice yourself,” she leans into him and chuckles.

He looks at his watch and notes the time. It's close to midnight and he has one tradition he likes to keep up and can’t exactly do it in a room full of people they know.

He squeezes her hand before he releases her hand and nods to the ballroom door.

He heads out first and lingers near the holiday tree around the corner from their ballroom.

Claire catches Wendy’s eye as she sips the last of Jed’s drink and raises it in a farewell toast. Wendy nods subtly at her and Claire wraps her shawl around her shoulders before escaping the room and meeting Jed at the end of the hall.

There’s an outdoor balcony and he leads her to it but doesn’t go outside. There’s about a foot of snow and she’s in heels and tights and her shawl is hardly winter weather material. So, she leans against the wall and looks out at what would be a rose garden if it was springtime.

He moves behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning his chin against her shoulder.

She covers his arm with her hand and leans back against him, closing her eyes.

“Happy New Year’s Eve birthday, Claire,” he whispers.

He presses his lips to her neck, beard tickling her skin and she giggles quietly but leans her head in the opposite direction to allow him access to her neck. He takes advantage, lips trailing up slowly and surely until he presses his lips against the corner of her mouth as she hums.

He listens to the small hitch in her breathing and a muffled _oh_ echoes between them for a second before she turns in his arms and reciprocates. He pulls away and a small chuckle sounds before she leans in and kisses him again. His hand moves to the small of her back, gently pulling her from leaning against the wall so there's less space between them. His other hand moves into her soft curls and his fingers catch on a few bobby pins she's stuck in there to keep her hair to one side. 

She skims fingers over his waistline as her mouth opens and takes the time to draw this kiss out until a cheer rings out from the muffled television in the main room and then ballroom they escaped moments before.

When they finally separate, her fingers grab his own and she holds his hand, thumb brushing against his hand. And, instead of heading back to the party, she moves to the bank of elevators where room 3312 awaits their return.

**four.**

When Wendy Atwater closes the door to his office, Jed Bishop pops his head up with a wary look. 

“Doctor Atwater,” he greets, her name slowly escaping his lips. 

“Jed,” she nods and her brow raises with a familiar height. A good imitation but not quite as distracting as Claire as she expresses her amusement or disbelief. 

“Wendy,” he follows up. Since he was calling him Jed on the clock, he takes it’s not a work-related conversation. 

“Claire’s birthday.” 

Jed frowns a little, brow furrowing behind the frame of his glasses as he watches her sit down in his visitor's chair.

“New Year’s Eve is on Thursday, so I was thinking we could do a New Year’s Day party on Friday after our shift ends. I know both of you have Saturday off.”

This time it’s Jed who raises a brow. 

“It’s her fiftieth. Usually, that’s a milestone to celebrate,” she reminds him. 

“She hasn’t mentioned anything.”

“Of course she hasn’t mentioned anything to you. You scare her friends here.”

“I don’t scare you,” he points out.

She shrugs her shoulders. It's true.

“Listen, just get her to my house and Andrew and I can figure out the rest.”

“Seems easy enough,” Jed says suspiciously. “Are you sure she actually likes these people?”

“You want more tasks?” Wendy smirks as Jed looks a little horrified at the prospect.

He shakes his head and pulls his wallet out of his drawer, handing her a few twenty-dollar bills.

“If you need more, let me know,” he nods at the bills.

“Friday. 6 pm.”

She pockets the cash in her lab coat and makes a mental note to stop by her locker because they still have five hours left of their shift.

Jed nods.

\--

“Fancy meeting you here,” he jests as she’s wrapped in her favourite cardigan and hums as he steps closer. He checks his watch before he sits down. Still a little ways away from New Year’s Eve. 

He holds a plain box in his hand and gently places it between them. 

“Little large and obvious compared to other years,” she points out as she looks at the precisely done wrapping and ribbon. There’s no newspaper in sight.

He chuckles and rolls his hand, telling her to move on with the unwrapping. 

"Someone from maintenance threw out all the newspapers before I could grab one."

She shakes her head, biting the inside of her cheek so she doesn't laugh.

Instead of putting it on her lap, she turns her body on the bench to face him and the box, grabbing the ribbon and untying the neat bow. She shifts the box to the side, finding a piece of the taped plainly wrapped brown paper and carefully releasing it to find an equally plain white box. 

“This is very minimalist, even for you,” she comments with a brow rising as she moves to open the lid.

“Flown in from that little bakeshop you liked in Los Gatos,” he reminds her of the trip they took with Andrew and Wendy in early autumn.

Claire loved the food more than the wine on that trip to the wineries. And she was fascinated by the little retreat center that was clothing optional and no cell phones or electronics allowed right by where the high schools competed in rowing regattas across the way from one winery.

He moves her hands to release the box so the sides fall down. It leaves the little cake stand plate the cupcake is on, on display for her. He grabs it from the bench between them. 

The banana cupcake is topped with a cream cheese frosting and he sticks a green glitter candle in the center. He holds the cupcake on the plate in one hand and a lighter in the one that just stuck the candle in the frosting and cupcake as he holds it up to her. 

“Happy New Year’s Eve birthday,” he gives her a genuine smile.

She blows out the candle and tugs it free, licking the frosting from the candle’s base before putting it on the plate. 

She tugs at his lab coat, pulling him closer as she presses her lips to his. She tastes like whipped sugar and she hums against his lips. 

“Next year, we should take today off. Maybe actually celebrate the whole day. Go to the Baltics,” she tells him as she pulls away and grabs her cupcake from him. 

He unconsciously licks his lips and nods his agreement. Her real present is at home and when they get done with this shift, they’ll head to her favourite breakfast spot and then he’ll give her his gift.

**five.**

She wasn’t really sure how or why she became the face of York Memorial Hospital during the pandemic, but she had gone on television with three of her counterparts and the province’s health authority to reiterate to the masses the emergency department didn’t have time for typical New Year’s Eve shenanigans. They didn’t have time to treat the illegal fireworks mishaps or sparkler and firecracker burns in a pandemic. The Greater Toronto Area was in a staged lockdown, but it hadn’t detracted holiday travel and hospital staff were skeptical any message would work. All four hospitals downtown had officially entered into the crisis standards of care protocols last week as the for-profit hospitals continue to refuse to treat suspected positive or known positive patients. 

They had retreated back to the old days of 36-hour shifts and Theo hadn’t even bothered to try and return home to Sudbury since the summer months. 

Jed had brought her over to the health department briefing center. After all, before this, she took the metro everywhere. Now, they worked the same shifts and she spent all of her time with him at his apartment when they did get to leave the hospital because it was easier that way. 

When they got back to the hospital, they used the employee entrance around the corner, hitting up the tented entrance where their badge was sanitized, temperature checked, and the first layer of PPE waited to be donned. A white label sticker is printed off with their name, time, and temperature. Stuck on their scrub tops, Jed and Claire are allowed to use the scrub station before donning their N95 mask, a disposable mask, and the door is opened by an employee in their typical layers. 

The surgical gowns are thrown over their scrubs and gloves are donned. They reach for the tape one by one so there’s no gap between the gown and gloves. They both step into the hazmat suits where their photo and name are over their hearts and they zip one another up before they tape over the zippers and add another pair of gloves before putting on the protective eyewear and a face shield. 

They do a final check of one another. Hospital staff always come in for the day in pairs or more so there’s a check and assist system. So far, there have been minimal outbreaks with the staff but minimal doesn’t mean none and they require a 21-day quarantine rather than the recommended 14-day. 

He can see Claire look over at the clock and sigh. Just 10 more hours left on this 36-hour shift. 

He holds her gloved hand for the briefest of moments and he can’t see her tired smile, but it at least mostly makes it to her eyes as she looks up at him. 

“Be safe,” he tells her. 

“You, too,” she nods. 

And with one last look, he leans his back against the door release and lets her precede him out to the emergency department to finish the rest of their shift. 

\--

He finds her almost eleven hours later on his couch, freshly showered and in the pink set of scrubs she loathes because they’re waiting for their standard ones to be decontaminated down in the laundry facility with the rest of the hospital staff scrubs. 

She’s not asleep but it will turn that way the longer she’s able to nap. 

He is also freshly showered and has new scrubs on as he squats so he’s in front of her. His knees are probably going to kill him later, but she looks exhausted and they have 24 hours off and he wants her in a real bed rather than his office couch. 

“Claire,” he whispers as a hand reaches out and runs through her drying hair. 

She shifts and hums but doesn’t wake. 

“Hey, let’s go home,” he tries and leans forward to brush his lips to her cheek. 

Her hand reaches up and she finds his cheek and she sighs. He hasn’t shaved in days and his cheek has stubble and then some. 

“There’s a perfectly adequate bed at home waiting for you, you know,” he reminds her. 

She hums again and pats his cheek halfheartedly. 

He looks at her face. Bruising from the PPE still colours her face as it’s on whenever they’re not in this office. He’s sure his face is similar. 

He leans in and this time presses his mouth to hers. Her lips are cool and he wonders how she keeps them so soft still even though they hardly get a break long enough to put on some lip balm. 

As he leans away, she slowly peeks an eye open. 

“Happy New Year’s Eve birthday, sleeping beauty,” he jests as his chin briefly tickles her ear. 

“‘Time is it?” She wonders as she yawns. 

“3:14 am,” he says as he looks at his wrist. 

“It’s New Year’s Day, not Eve. Or my birthday,” she points out. 

“Semantics,” he shrugs. 

“Facts,” she counters with a huff and finally moves to sit up. 

He takes her hand and gently pulls her up and she sinks into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He holds her close and fingers trail up and down her spine and holds her. 

“I’m so tired,” she sighs into the purple scrub top he wears, her forehead meeting his clavicle as she tilts her head to view his profile. 

He knows. On top of their regular emergency department cases, they have a covid ward in their acute wing. Claire and Wendy are not only in charge of said ward but also have to maintain the schedule for that ward and continue their regular jobs as head nurse and attending, respectively. The contract staffing request he put in six months ago was finally approved and they’re coming from all over the world next week to relieve some of the pressure but it’s a constant hell and uphill battle. 

“I know,” he nods and releases her. 

He cups her cheeks in both his hands, his thumbs gently tracing the faint outline of the N95 mask. He gazes at her for a moment, exhaustion plainly written on their faces, but he leans in and presses his lips to hers again in a proper kiss. Her fingers clench his scrub top and she lets out a content sigh against his mouth as she tugs him forward and deepens the kiss for the briefest of moments. She pulls away and chuckles a little as his forehead meets hers. 

“Let’s go home,” she whispers and feels his nod. “Jonah texted and said I have cupcakes waiting at our doorstep.”

He chuckles despite himself. His son, thanks to Jonah's university closing, was occupying Claire’s apartment since she was, for all intents and purposes, living with him for the past ten months thanks to the pandemic and they have similar exposure risks working in a hospital’s emergency department. He’ll drop meals off knowing their schedule and text Claire that it's there when they finally get a break. Claire considers this his rent payment, being a university student and not wanting to live with Katherine and Simon down in New York.

They put on their two layers of masks and Jed takes her hand, gently tugging to get her to follow him so they can go home and not think about this for a little while. They might not have celebrated her birthday the way they had planned this year, but at least they’d have New Year’s Day. 


End file.
